


Nicknames are Stupid

by xRYDERx



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Robincest, Sneaking Around, Stealing from Alfred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRYDERx/pseuds/xRYDERx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a subtle softness to his tone and expression that slips every now and then. Mostly when they're both relaxed and think no one is around. But Tim has this habit of leaving doors open and Jason has this habit of being a ninja and eavesdropping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicknames are Stupid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoubixLoveless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoubixLoveless/gifts).



> Why did I? Why this? I'm dumb.
> 
> Merry early Christmas, Waifu.

Whenever the subject of nicknames somehow presents itself - Tim seriously wonders how it comes up so much - the third Robin is suddenly just gone. And while, yes, it is a Robin thing to vanish into thin air, Tim does an infinitely better job at it when forced to have brotherly bonding time. They've renamed it after Steph discovered they were having "Robin bonding" time because while they all enjoy Stephanie's company - sans Damian maybe - they need some bro time. Besides, she's had years with Tim and apparently she and Jason are pretty tight now for some reason. Like how Tim and Jason are tight. Like how everyone in the Batfam is tight after beating the shit out of one another.  
  
  
This time, though, Dick is prepared. The two oldest of the Robin legacy internally berate themselves for not having thought of it sooner. They know Tim's weakness. It's everyone's weakness for Spock sake! Two words that render everything else, including and not limited to hostile alien invasions, in the universe insignificant.  
  
  
Alfred's. Cookies.  
  
  
Alfred's chocolate chip cookies to be precise, because those are Tim's personal favorites in any scenario.  
  
  
With a silent apology to Alfred while the older gent if out shopping, Jason and Dick confiscate every single cookie from the glass jar and bolt down to the cave, grinning ear to ear. There's something about doing something wrong that makes the officer in Dick chuckle madly, but in this case he kind of half laughs-half grimaces because, hello, Alfred. Yeah, he and Jason are going to pay somehow. It's probably going to be Damian who gets them back because Alfred is everyone's favorite person in every universe. Especially Damian's.  
  
  
Speaking of Little D - Little Demon - he is circling Drake on the training mats, ready to pounce. They're both in tank tops and jogging pants, a light sheen of sweat already evident, and Damian is sporting a bruise on his right cheek. Tim is simply smirking, eyeing the younger boy dangerously.  
  
  
Both stop, eyes going slightly wide before, like the curious little birdies they are, tilting their heads in their older brothers' direction. The glorious sense of smell.  
  
  
"Pennyworth will be cross," Little D announces while calmly walking over to snag a cookie from the platter.  
  
  
Tim is less subtle, snatching a handful and popping a whole cookie into his mouth while cradling the others.   
  
  
Jason makes a note to give him a bunch more because the kid trains with them and how is he still a fucking twig? Little Demon is thicker, not to mention taller, than he is. Like, how is that even possible? Tim is 21! Demon just turned 18! What! Why! How!  
  
  
"Not that I like to agree with Damian," Tim notes after swallowing. Never 'Robin' in private or public, always 'Damian', "but he is right. I'm pretty sure these were supposed to be for after dinner."  
  
  
"Would it kill you to do something bad once in a while, squirt?" Jason sneers and chomps on a snicker doodle.  
  
  
"Perhaps. If my predecessor is anything to go by," he quips offhandedly.  
  
  
Dick freezes, eyes wide and mouth gaping open to reveal an unchewed bit of croissant about to slip out. Damian goes tense and his eyes dart back and forth between Tim, whose eyes reveal the true level of master sassery and Jason, who just spits out his poor snickerdoodle while choking and doubling over in laughter.  
  
  
"Tim!" Dick says in possibly the highest and most offended voice they've heard since the last time someone denied his fashion advice and referenced Discowing, "you can't just casually mention people's deaths in front of them!"  
  
  
Tim simply shrugs while Jason gets over his fit. Apparently referencing Jason's death no longer warrants a fist to the face, a knee to the groin or both. Good to know.  
  
  
"Man, Little Red," Jason sighs and wipes a tear away, "who new you were such a snarky little bastard."  
  
  
"I tried to repress it," Dick mumbles.  
  
  
"In any case, we have the house to ourselves and a topic to discuss," Jason outright grins.  
  
  
The only reason Little Demon sticks around is because Big Douche has something on him. And yes, Jason is quite proud of the names he thought up after Dick referred to himself and the brat as Big D and Little D. Damian does not find these tags half as clever as either of them. But really, Jason has to find out what sort of blackmail Dick has on their youngest member.  
  
  
Tim is stiff now. His eyes keep darting between brothers and cookies and he has this look on his face that is somehow, impossibly, a mix between _I knew this was suspicious_ and _big brother, how could you trick me?_ He's actually quite famous in the superhero community for his mixed expressions. It’s the doe eyes. He’s a fucking expert.  
  
  
Dick wraps an arm around his shoulder before he can Robin himself out of there and pulls him to lean against the overly-large keyboard B insists on owning. Jason plops down in the comfortable as hell revolving chair and Damian just stands there, eyebrows knit together in annoyance at either having to stick around or lack of cookie. Could be both. It's probably both.  
  
  
"So, there's this issue we have to deal with," Jason begins smoothly, voice nowhere near portraying the humor he finds in this whole situation. Especially Tim's fidgeting under his brothers' scrutiny.  
  
  
"Tim, just give Damian a nickname already!" Dick half whines and half shrieks. I call Jay 'Little Wing', Jay calls you 'Little Red'. That's how we roll!"  
  
  
Jason takes the platter from Dick, who is now apparently a kicked puppy who misses being the wielder of the world's greatest weakness, but they had a plan. _Play it cool_. But noooo, Dick had to fuck that up. _Of. Fucking. Course_. Jason never should have trusted him with the cookies.  
  
  
He scoffs. Tim literally just scoffs. And pushes Dick's arm from his shoulder. And now Big D looks like a kicked puppy with no cookies who got left in a box in an alley and is out in the rain. And Tim doesn't seem like he cares. And what the hell? Dick is his favorite person in the world! After Bruce. And Kon. And Bart. And Cass. And Lucius Fox. And maybe Tam. And... Well maybe Dick isn't in his top 10 anymore, but Tim still usually tries his hardest to make big brother proud. When did this development even-  
  
  
And Demon is smirking... Why? It's small, but it is, in fact, there. And, well, what the fuck? Wasn't Dick Damian's second favorite person? Doesn't he hate Tim?  
  
  
"Tiiiiiiiim," Dick whines, slinging his arms around Tim's shoulders tightly. "Timmyyyyyyyy? Timmerrrrrrrrrrs!"  
  
  
"Oh my God, Dick, can you not? What even," Tim groans as a reply.  
  
  
"Just - can you - nicknames!" Dick reiterates not so gracefully.  
  
  
"Why do I need to have a nickname for anyone?" Tim asks with a sigh at being unable to get the koala that is Richard Grayson off of him. "Why can't I just call people by their names? Why do people _need_ nicknames."  
  
  
"It's tradition," Jason cuts in before the room turns into a fucking battleground or something. "Past Robins _have_ to give their successors some kind of handle. That's just how it's done."  
  
  
Dick nods but Tim is just not having that. Instead he gives koala face a strike to his elbow that makes his arm go jelly like and slips from his grip. Jason won't admit to being impressed, but he is.  
  
  
Tim absconds up the stairs and into the manor and Damian is nowhere to be found. Jason blames Dick. He really really does. And he feels no sympathy while the older man rolls on the floor trying to get feeling back into his right arm.  
  
  
\-------  
  
  
It takes Jason a few days after that, but he realizes why Tim doesn't give LD a name. It's because he already has one.  
  
  
He doubts anyone else notices, and he waits a week before telling Dick, but he picks up on the subtle change between Tim calling him by his name in the past and in the present.  
  
  
There's a subtle softness to his tone and expression that slips every now and then. Mostly when they're both relaxed and think no one is around. But Tim has this habit of leaving doors open and Jason has this habit of being a ninja and eavesdropping.  
  
  
At breakfast, or well any meal, when he asks Damian for something closer to him his voice doesn't hold the same animosity as it does when he addresses Big D and Little Wing. Stupid Dick and his stupid pet names.  
  
  
Jason chalks that up to the fact that Little D hadn't forced him into all that nickname crap.  
  
  
The next time Jason hears his voice when talking to or about the brat is on patrol. There's a group of punks who think its a good idea to pull a bank job in Batman's city. Really smart.  
  
  
Someone pulls a gun on Robin's back and Red Robin lands a drop kick before anyone can even warn him. When the guys - morons - are tied up and unconscious Little Red hovers and checks to make sure he's alright. When he's finally through being a giant mother hen he smiles and just whispers, "Robin" to which Robin's cheeks definitely do not flush as a reaction.  
  
  
It happens again a few times, but Jason just thinks that after so long it took Damian being an actual adult to calm their jealousy and anger issues. He thinks Damian has a crush on Tim and maybe that's Dick's blackmail, because there's always some slight reaction when Tim says his name. A little twitch of the lips or brow, drawing backward, away from anyone else. Only a Batbrat would be able to tell.  
  
On the sixth day afterward is when he finally gets confirmations. He's sneaking behind Tim toward the study because, as stated before, jason is a ninja and Tim is a dumbass who apparently doesn't care about privacy. The door is already slightly ajar, four of those thin little wristbands that make some dumb shape like a dinosaur or penis or something when they aren't tangled hanging from the knob. That isn't anything new though. Those things are on every doorknob in the joint.  
  
  
Tim takes a red one shaped like a Phoenix and enters quietly, leaving the door slightly open. Rookie mistake. Jason inches closer quietly and makes a note of the amount of bands on this knob are now two less than the five that are on every other one.  
  
  
"Sorry about that," Tim grumbles with a sigh. "I kept meaning to apologize for hitting you."  
  
  
Jason can't see who he's talking to, but he assumes its Dick, finally getting the apology he's been waiting for. Aside from missions those two haven't said a word to one another.  
  
  
"It is a bruise, nothing more," Damian's voice echoes a bit.  
  
  
Jason's brows raise in surprise.  
  
  
"Besides, it wouldn't exactly have been training if you'd gone easy on me, Beloved."  
  
  
Umm... What?  
  
  
"Still," Jason can _hear_ the grin in Tim's voice even over the sound of someone sitting on a leather couch. And really, B? Leather? "I didn't mean to get your face. It hasn't faded completely yet."  
  
  
"As I said before, it is fine." Jason imagines Damian dismissing it with a regal wave of his hand. And when Jason says regal, he really means moronic. Dick does that a lot.  
  
  
"And as I said before," Jason hears before the soft sound of a kiss. "I'm sorry. _Damian_."  
  
  
In that one word, that one gentle sigh, Jason finally knows why Tim has rejected the idea of nicknames for the better half of that year. His name, Damian, when Tim says his name it has all the affection, all the endearment of any moniker and more. It's like, when Bart calls Rose Patches. Or Gar calls Rachel weird or dark when he thinks no one can hear him. But somehow it's so much more intense.  
  
  
Anyone else would be surprised, confused, maybe a little horrified that their younger brothers were dating or making out or whatever. But oh no, not Jason. He's a bit too busy with thinking up ways to use this as blackmail against them both as he walks away and-  
  
  
Oh shit! Is this the dirt Dick has on Damian!? Fuck no! It better not be! This is Jason's only chance at getting Tim to relinquish his crazy ass hold on his keys to his newly upgraded Redbird. Big enough for normal sized people and everything.  
  
  
So yeah. Fuck Dick. This juicy news has Jason written all over it.

**Author's Note:**

> If I jumbled shit too much then this is how the nicknames go:
> 
> Dick calls Jason "Little Wing  
> Jason calls Tim "Little Red"  
> Tim calls everyone stupid  
> Damian just last names everyone still  
> Dick calls Damian "Little D" and himself "Big D"  
> Jason assumes it stands for "Little Demon" and "Big Douche"


End file.
